


Soon I'll Be Gone.

by orphan_account



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: F/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-22 05:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13757709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: T'Challa and Nakia's story as soulmates in the MCU. Their journeys with and without each other - from their early lives, to T'Challa's coronation as King, and up to wherever life decides to take them.





	1. Prologue - Wakanda's T'Challa

_T’Challa_ , something in her whispered quietly as she looked down at the baby boy cradled in her arms. The newly born prince had been left unnamed for three days; her husband, as loathed as he was to leave her side, had to attend to matters of the nation so he entrusted upon her the great responsibility to name their son. No inspiration had struck until now. No name had sounded right. Ramonda had spent three nights tossing and turning in bed trying to come up with a name worthy of a prince. None, until now, and she was sure it came directly from Bast herself. _T’Challa_ , that voice again whispered, now more insistently. 

_T’Challa, future King of Wakanda_ , she thought to herself, smiling. The infant reached up to her face with one arm untucked from his blanket, cooing softly. So far, he had been nothing but a quiet baby, and although it relieved her that there were no sleepless nights as of yet, it also concerned her that something might have been wrong with her son. Upon seeing him now though, moving delightedly as if he had heard her saying the name, she knew that was not true. Far from it, actually. 

“T’Challa,” she said softly, adjusting him to rest in the crook of one arm and bringing up the other to caress his face. The boy cooed again. “You like that name, don’t you, Little T’Challa?”

“What is this? Do I hear a name for our son?” She smiled as she turned around to regard the newcomer in the room, her husband, the infant still tucked comfortably in her arm. 

“You heard right, my husband,” she replied affirmatively. 

“T’Challa, was it?” he asked as he approached them, genuine curiosity written on his face. “What gave you the thought?”

“Oh, nothing,” she waved him off with one arm, now turning back around to put their son in his crib. “Maybe it was Bast.”

“Bast, eh?” T’Chaka stood next to her, watching as she bent over the crib to secure the baby blanket around the child and then pressing a kiss to his forehead. He brought a hand down into the crib and caressed the baby’s cheek with his forefinger. Ramonda watched the loving gesture with a full heart; she had no doubt that the man before her would be a great father and King.

“The name had only come to me just now,” she admitted, slightly sheepish. “I was thinking about how you gave me this task of naming our child and I wanted it to be perfect, a name he will be remembered by and -”

“And what a name he will be remembered with,” T’Chaka reassured, a hand raised to stop her from further rambling. “T’Challa,” he said as if he was testing the feel of the name on his tongue, his eyes now gazing upon their son. Their son who still had his eyes wide open, looking at them through his long lashes. “Now why won’t you go to sleep?” her husband asked teasingly to their son, mouth set in a cheeky grin.

Ramonda rested a hand on her beloved’s arm, the two of them looking adoringly at their child. “Perhaps he is intrigued with his new name,” she remarked. “It is about time that he has one. His friend in the Border Tribe already has one, after all, and he was only born yesterday!”

“Ah, yes, young W’Kabi, isn’t it? I have not had the time to look in on them. How are they?”

“As well as they can be, T’Chaka,” she said. “Healthy and happy.”

“That is good news,” he nodded. He looked at her inquisitively. “And you?”

“What?” 

“Are you happy?” he inquired, a small smile teasing at the corners of his lips. 

She smiled. Of course she was. What more could she want? A loving husband and a newborn child. Her family. And she told him as much. “Yes,” she said sincerely. “I have someone who loves me and whom I love in return, a son who I strongly believe will grow up to become a good man, a good leader, a good King and protector of Wakanda.” She paused, looking her husband in the eyes, searching, only to find that he was looking at her with just as much intensity and earnestness. “A son who will be loved by all.” 

“And if he doesn’t become the man he has the potential to be? If he becomes a wayward soul, enticed by the dangerous outside world? If he rejects his legacy and choose to live a different life?” T’Chaka challenged. He was testing her and she knew it.

“Then I will still support him if he chooses to lead a different life and guide him if he is led astray,” answered Ramonda with all her heart. “And I will love him just the same. I am his mother and he is my son and nothing, I repeat, _nothing_ will change that.”

Her beloved’s face quickly changed into that of a bright smile at her answer. “And this is why I love you, Ramonda,” he said, his voice filled with adoration.

“And I love you,” she replied in kind. She gazed down at the bundle in the crib. Their little bundle of joy had fallen asleep amidst their discussion. “And I love our son. Our T’Challa.” She looked at her husband then. 

“ _Wakanda’s T’Challa_.”


	2. Chapter 1 - The Heart-Shaped Herb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T'Chaka teaches T'Challa the history of Wakanda. Later, T'Challa gets into a bit of mischief. Also, somebody's first appearance!

“Baba,” started young T’Challa to his father as they sat together near the edge of the cliff overlooking the vast green plains of Wakanda, a plethora of stars twinkling brightly in the night sky above their heads. “Can you tell me the story about our grandfathers? Mama said last night that you would tell me.”

T’Chaka looked down to his son. “Yes, I suppose it is time for you to learn of our history,” he said approvingly. He inhaled deeply before beginning. 

“Thousands of years ago, a meteorite containing a strange, powerful metal called vibranium landed on Earth in a place now known as Wakanda. The five tribes that lived there fought each other to contend for the metal, until one warrior was shown by Bast a vision of a plant that, because of the metal, was in the shape of a heart -”

“The Heart-Shaped Herb, Baba!” interjected T’Challa excitedly.

“Yes,” nodded T’Chaka, smiling. “The Heart-Shaped Herb. Very good, T’Challa. Now, the warrior ate the herb and gained superhuman abilities. He used his powers to unite the tribes. They all crowned him the King of Wakanda and the first Black Panther. They built Wakanda with their great resource of vibranium and eventually their technology became so advanced they had to hide themselves from the rest of world for protection.”

“Okay,” said T’Challa, nodding seriously. “But why?”

“Why?” repeated T’Chaka bewilderedly. 

“Yes, Baba, why did they need to protect themselves from the rest of the world? Why do we need to?”

There was a moment of pause as T’Chaka considered his options on how to answer his very curious son’s question. He could tell his son the truth, that the outside world was filled with evil, that the outside world was wracked with war and bloodshed and that they used their every resource to wage war on others. On the other hand, he could just deflect the question. Lying was not an option here. His six-year-old son was too smart for that and far too perceptive. And after all, lying would only bring heartbreak and displeasure in the future. T’Challa would hate him for it.

“My son,” he finally sighed. “Sometimes there are things that take a long time and the right time to learn.” T’Challa visibly pouted as he tilted his head up to look at him. 

“Then, when can I learn it?” asked T’Challa, still pouting, with a slight whine to his voice.

T’Chaka grinned at the young boy. “When you get older, perhaps.”

“ _Baba!_ ”

He laughed as he kissed the top of his son’s head. “Come now, T’Challa. I’m sure your mother is waiting for us at home,” he said as he began to stand.

“Wait, Baba,” stopped T’Challa. “One last question, please?” The boy turned his big brown eyes towards him. One look into the boy’s eyes and he knew he would not be able to resist.

“What is it, T’Challa?”

“Where is the Heart-Shaped Herb now?” asked the boy curiously.

He tilted his head slightly as he regarded his son, suspicious. “Why do you ask?”

“You must get your powers from somewhere!” exclaimed T’Challa suddenly. “Baba, you’re the Black Panther! And then I will become the Black Panther. I need to know these things, don’t I?”

“Yes, you do, my son. But, as I said, some things -”

“Oh, _please, Baba?_ ” 

A heavy sigh escaped his lips before he could stop it. While he certainly loved T’Challa and never regretted the decision to have him, he did not think he could handle another incredibly inquisitive and curious child anytime soon. “The Heart-Shaped Herb is being kept not far from the Palace. We farm the herb in the gardens. Would you like to go see them?”

He knew he made a mistake the moment the boy enthusiastically nodded his head with a big smile on his face.

\-----------

“General Winda,” T’Chaka said. “Make sure that the Doras are on extra guard tonight at the herb gardens.”

General Winda tilted her head curiously. “May I ask why, Your Highness?”

“My son is expected to be there.”

The general smiled and bowed. “Of course, My King.”

\-----------

T’Challa opened his eyes and peeked over his shoulder. Upon seeing that his parents had already retreated to their bedchambers, he rolled over on his bed as quietly as he could and pushed himself off. Tiptoeing out of the room, he searched left and right for any sign of his parents or their guards and silently walked out the door. 

As he walked down the corridors of the Palace, he finally gave some thought to his course of action for his ‘mission’ tonight. _Don’t let Mama and Baba know you are not sleeping_ , he thought seriously. _Very important_. Though he tried to stay as hidden as possible, he could not help himself from looking and staring around him. _Why is nobody here? Is General Winda not supposed to be guarding the Palace?_

His heart thundered against his chest as he walked closer and closer towards the doorway leading to the gardens, his small footsteps echoing loudly in his ears. He had never once tried to be the slightest bit disobedient, or rebellious, but he wanted to see if the Heart-Shaped Herb was actually heart-shaped and if it could grant him otherworldly abilities. He too wanted to be the Black Panther!

T’Challa was proud to say that he had a very good memory and could remember things well. So it was no surprise to him that he was able to trace back his and his father’s footsteps to the herb gardens, when his father had offered to bring him there a little earlier. 

Entering the gardens was quite easy, what with no guards standing there at the entrance ( _I really should tell Baba that the Doras aren’t doing their jobs_ ), though the panther statues in front scared him a little. But he was nothing if not determined. A couple of statues were not enough to deter him from his task at hand. And was he glad that he had a little more courage inside him.

T’Challa was awed, staring at the sight before him slack-jawed with wide eyes. While it was a little more dark than he liked it to be, he did not let that bother him as he let his little legs carry him closer to the herbs. They were _beautiful_. They were purple too, his favourite colour! And they were also actually heart-shaped. So the stories are true. He could not believe that his mother did not have these around the Palace. He thought briefly of plucking some to bring back home before discarding it completely. That would certainly show his parents that he had snuck out alone at night when he should be sleeping.

Now was the chance for him to be just like his father, the Black Panther. He could just take and eat one now and he would be so strong and so fast! His heart beating loudly in his ears, he inched closer to a herb and reached out with his small hand. Just a little bit more and -

“My Prince, I do not think you are supposed to be here.”

T’Challa yelped and fell backwards onto his bottom. All the blood rushed to his face and his heart dropped all the way down to his stomach when he heard the voice from behind him. It was a Dora - Faraji. They were here the whole time! Oh, he was so in trouble now.

Another Dora quickly jogged to him and pulled him up by the armpits. “There now, My Prince,” she patted away the dust on the back of his trousers. “Let’s get you to your parents.”

“How did you know I was here? Where were you?” asked T’Challa indignantly as he was pulled away by the hand, the Dora leading him out of the gardens.

Faraji laughed from in front of him. There were five or six Doras escorting him back home. “Oh, My Prince,” she shook her head as she turned to look back at him, sighing, mirth very evident in her voice. “Your father knew you would be here. We were told to expect you. So, we decided to play a game of hide-and-seek with you.”

“Hide-and-seek doesn’t work like that!”

Now, more of the Dora Milaje laughed. “Whatever you say, Prince T’Challa,” said the Dora holding him.

The trip back was filled with T’Challa huffing and grumbling his annoyance and displeasure, all to hide the feelings of dread and nervousness of course. The feelings were rightfully so; he certainly got an earful from his mother in front of his bedchambers where he was presented to his parents. When he looked to his father with wide, pleading eyes, the man had only smiled triumphantly and shook his head.

When he was left in his room to sleep, with guards stationed outside his chambers, he could vaguely make out the sound of his father’s laugh amidst his mother’s chattering. The nerve of that man.

\-----------

Nearby the great river where members of the River Tribe resided, a young four-year-old girl lied in her bed as she listened to her father’s tales of the outside world.

“The outside world is not as bad as it is made out to be,” said her father. “Every bad has a good, and every good has a bad. Remember that.”

“Can I go outside of Wakanda, Father?” she asked earnestly. “I want to see these things too!”

“Maybe when you are older, you might be permitted to leave,” he smiled. “It is dangerous for a young girl like you to be going off on your own, you know.”

From the corner of her eyes, she could see her mother rolling her eyes and shaking her head from where she stood by the door. “Enough of that now, love,” she said. “Our daughter has had a long day today, hasn’t she?”

“Ah, well. Shame then,” said her father teasingly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in humour as he gazed down at her. He stepped aside to let her mother sit at the end of the bed. 

“Goodnight, my darling daughter,” her mother bid as she bent down to kiss her on the forehead. 

“Goodnight, Mama,” she returned easily.

When her mother stood and left the room, her father knelt by the bed, gently running his hand over her head. “I see a great future ahead of you, my daughter,” he whispered softly. “You will be our pride and joy. You _are_ our pride and joy.”

“Father,” she exhaled. “You are leaving again, aren’t you?”

Her father smiled, but it did not quite reach his eyes. “One day, you will understand.”

She rolled her eyes. “You say that all the time.”

He chuckled, planting a kiss on her forehead, and stood. “Goodnight, Nakia,” he said as he made to leave the room.

“Goodnight, Father,” she called back.

That night, Nakia slept curled into herself, arms wrapped around her little body as she cried herself to sleep, as she always did whenever her father left for his spy missions. 

_One day_ , she vowed through her tears. _One day I will go out there and see what Father sees. If there are crying kids like me, like Father says there are, then I will help them and make them happy again!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Finally got the 1st official chapter out! I have to say, I had some fun writing this one, for sure! As always, please be sure to comment and review! Lemme know what you think so far! <3
> 
> Winda and Faraji are OCs, obviously. Seeing as every Black Panther needs their own Dora Milaje, I decided to have some fun with T'Chaka's. I got their names on a Swahili name generator :P  
> Winda = Hunter  
> Faraji = Consolation/Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> A quite long fic I and my fanfic buddy Faith are working on together! We are very excited to be starting this fic and are very ecstatic for you to be here with us for the ride! Lots of teeth-rotting fluff and romance from our favourite new OTP coming your way! Thanks for reading and any review will be very much appreciated!
> 
> Come say hi to us on Tumblr! Leave us some suggestions and requests of what you want to see in this fic while you're at it!  
> @madmooostard  
> @kawaiibeyotch


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